


Robotic Technotronic

by sulkingroom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Gaping, BDSM, Belly Bulging, Bottom Harry, Crying During Sex, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Feminization, Fucking Machines, M/M, PWP, Pain Kink, Sub Harry, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulkingroom/pseuds/sulkingroom
Summary: “I’m going to turn this on in a moment,” Ben said calmly. Harry got off on being told what was going to happen to him - what would be done to him -  the heady mixture of excitement and dread prolonging the euphoria he experienced while helpless. “Are you going to be good for me?”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Ben Winston
Kudos: 98





	Robotic Technotronic

Harry’s scream hit Ben’s ear like a baby’s cry, sharp and insistent. He flinched bodily, wheeling around from where he was checking the machine’s settings one final time before letting it loose on Harry. 

The candle suspended in the air above Harry’s streaked torso was almost burnt out, the evidence of which was splattered from Harry’s pubes up to his nipples. The wax cracked and splintered as Harry struggled against the bonds at his wrists and ankles, leaving thin spidery veins of his flushed skin almost visible beneath. Ben had drizzled the first stream of wax onto the sensitive skin at the base of Harry’s cock himself, and although he'd flagged pathetically in response, his cock had since filled back up, now swaying heavily as Harry thrashed against the restraints, precome sliding over the lowest patches of wax on his abdomen. 

“Do that again and I’ll give you something to scream about,” Ben warned, abandoning the machine to stand beside Harry as he bucked desperately. 

“Do you need to be gagged?” 

Ben had set Harry up in the basement, the walls a thick aged stone, but he still didn’t want to risk having to explain prolonged screaming to any neighbours that might be walking by. 

“I don’t  _ know _ ,” Harry whined, his mind far away and useless. 

“That sounds like a yes to me.”

As another thick drip of wax slipped from the candle onto Harry’s chest, bonding instantly to the cooling pool already seared into his skin, Harry howled, his teeth clashing noisily as he clenched his jaw. 

“Yes or no, Harry?”

Beneath Harry’s body the black repurposed medical bench was slick and shiny with his sweat, a thin line of light visible below the arch of his back as he tried in vain to rest comfortably under the dripping candle. 

“Yes,” Harry panted. “Please Sir.” 

“Good girl,” Ben replied, slapping the meat of Harry’s thigh as he retrieved a well-worn leather bit gag from the drawer beside him. Harry picked his head up obediently as Ben fitted the gag in place, noting the way Harry’s eyes slipped closed the second the bit pressed his tongue down, rendering him helpless and mute, save for his customary grunts and whines. 

“Okay?” Ben checked. 

Harry nodded, opening his eyes weakly. 

“I can’t hear you.” 

Just because Harry could no longer speak, Ben had no intention of letting him off the hook. If he wanted to prove how good he could be, there was no room for squeamishness. 

“Ehs,” Harry groaned. 

“Was that a yes?” Ben asked, grabbing the pair of scissors he’d set aside earlier and cutting down the candle dangling above Harry. 

“Eh,” Harry repeated. “Eh er.” 

“Yes Sir?” 

Harry nodded again theatrically, his head lifting up from the bench to emphasise the point. Spit was beginning to pool at the sides of Harry’s open mouth and the force of his nods worked it free, thick streams oozing sloppily down to his chin. 

“Dirty girl,” Ben chastised, dragging a finger through the drool on Harry’s cheek before fitting it into Harry’s gaping mouth, making sure to push his finger back far enough to set off Harry’s gag reflex. “Making such a mess.” 

Harry moaned quietly, his chest blooming as he took deep searching breaths now the prospect of another burning drip of candle wax had been removed. As Ben retook his place between Harry’s splayed legs at the foot of the table, he noticed a ripple of goosebumps shiver across Harry’s skin, his cock jumping as his stomach muscles clenched beneath the hardening wax. 

“I’m going to turn this on in a moment,” Ben said calmly. Harry got off on being told what was going to happen to him - what would be done _to_ him - the heady mixture of excitement and dread prolonging the euphoria he experienced while helpless. “Are you going to be good for me?” 

“Eh,” Harry answered instantly, flexing his fingers and toes in the ankle and wrist restraints as Ben stood, maneuvering the thick pink dildo into place between Harry’s legs, fitting the blunt head of the fake cock right at his entrance. 

“Are you going to take this fucking like a good slut?”

Harry whined pathetically, his hands now balled into fists at his sides and turning steadily whiter. 

“Let’s hope so,” Ben mused, turning the dial on the fucking machine to the first available setting. 

The lowest setting was sluggish, only just strong enough to smoothly breach Harry’s waiting hole. Even over the harsh mechanical clunk of the machine, Ben clearly heard Harry’s sharp intake of breath as the dildo forced its way inside him. He’d already been prepped - though he wouldn’t insist on it and would forego it if not for Ben - but that had been almost an hour ago and the unrelenting stretch was clearly a shock. 

Ben waited for any sound of protest from Harry, but none came, only a low wet gurgle that sounded as though it was brewed deep in Harry’s throat. 

“Pinch me if you need to. But if I have to turn it off, I’m not turning it back on again.” 

Ben laid his free hand casually beside Harry’s bound fist and watched as the dildo was drawn out of Harry’s hole, the wet suction as it was finally pulled completely free only just audible over Harry’s throaty cry as it quickly punched back in. 

“Look at you,” Ben said, syrup slow, his breath fanning over Harry’s thigh. “Opening right up for it. You’ve got such a  _ greedy  _ little slut hole, haven’t you?”

He turned the dial up a notch, squirting a few well-timed pumps of lube onto the shiny dildo as it withdrew between quickening thrusts. 

“Ehs!” Harry panted wetly around the gag. “Eh er!” 

“But this is big,” Ben considered. “Even for a slut like you.” 

He was right. The dildo wasn’t anything thicker than Harry regularly took, but it was long. It had to be, half of the silicone body of the dildo housed the thick metal pole that attached the fake cock to the motor. But even so, there was at least six extra inches left over. Six inches more than even Ben could give him. 

Harry’s ankles began to thrash inside their restraints, his knees fighting urgently to bend and close as the dildo built its pressure against his prostate. As he wriggled, where the sweat-slick skin of his back, shoulders and arse made contact with the bench beneath he slipped slightly, inadvertently edging his way further down towards Ben and impaling himself on an extra few centimetres of the dildo on the next thrust. He howled in surprise, each new thrust working a breathy gasp out of him now it was working its way that bit deeper. 

“Of  _ course _ , it’s still not enough is it?” Ben taunted. 

“This always wants more, more, more...” He pressed two fingers to the soft downy skin below Harry’s hole, feeling the slippery silicone run over his knuckles on each press into Harry. 

Harry was lost in the sensation, the sounds he was making no longer reminiscent of speech. Ben had accumulated enough practice fucking Harry to know that once he was properly under, properly  _ gone  _ and submitting to the feeling, he could come at any moment. His cock jumped feebly on each thrust but Ben had long since learned to ignore it. Harry far preferring to have his come fucked out of him while something pounded his hole than to have his dick touched whatsoever. On each thrust, Ben watched the pretty layer of wax on Harry’s body crack and disfigure further, the soft skin of his belly twitching. 

“Can you feel it in your belly?” He asked, watching as the skin distended slightly when the dildo was fully inserted. “Can you feel it right up through your pretty cunt?”

Harry groaned, not even attempting a response, his fingernails scratching the worn leather table frantically. 

“Shall we have a look?” Ben asked the room, under no illusions that Harry had anything worthwhile to add. 

Ben grasped the dial, and watching Harry’s face for any sign of real distress, turned it up as high as it would go. 

Harry growled into the leather of his gag, his head shooting back to hit the cushioned pad beneath as the machine instantly tore into a punishing rhythm. Ben could barely fix his attention in one place long enough to be of any use to Harry or himself, hurriedly squirting countless messy pumps of lube onto the dildo as it punched into Harry. The rapid slick snaps of each thrust set the backing track to Harry’s guttural wailing, and when Ben chanced a look at Harry’s face he found his cheeks ruddy and bright red, thick tendrils of spit streaming from either side of the soaking bit.

Ben barely had a second to tear his attention away from Harry’s face to the sloppy mess the machine was making of his hole before Harry was coming, each thick rope of come shooting up beyond the wax on his stomach and chest and hitting his shoulders and chin as he thrashed uselessly against the table. Each time the machine fucked into Harry on the new higher setting, the wax across Harry’s belly cracked open as his stomach distended, the full obscene length of the dildo pressing upwards and bulging his skin.

“Fuck, Harry,” Ben said, awestruck, unable to stop himself from reaching out gingerly to press his palm against Harry’s stomach as it jumped. Sure enough, he could clearly feel the dildo inside Harry on each thrust, and he greedily basked in the feeling for a moment before taking mercy on Harry and slowing the machine to a crawl before switching it off entirely. 

Harry was freely sobbing now, his face serene as Ben worked the dildo out of his hole. When Ben fitted three fingers back inside the gaping recess the dildo left in its wake and scooped out the excess lube that had been fucked inside him, Harry barely flinched, which Ben took as a sure sign that he’d been fucked into next week and would be no use for at least an hour or two. 

Ben wiped his hands on his jeans and reached up beneath Harry’s head, lifting it from the table like a dead weight to unclasp the gag. Thick trails of spit pulled away with the gag and Ben wiped those away too, setting it down beside them both.

“What do you say?” Ben asked, pushing Harry’s hair from where it had fallen in sweaty tendrils into his face.

“Thank you,” Harry breathed, his voice dry and weak. 

“For what?” 

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes still wet though he’d now stopped crying. He smiled up at Ben. “For letting me be your slut.” 

“Good girl.”


End file.
